Wild, Wild West
by PancakesAndSunshine
Summary: One-shot. Emily has to play a role in the trapping of an UnSub. What happens when she has to DRESS the part too? R&R, please!


**Author's Note: Hi hi! Enjoy this western case-fic. **

**Let me set the scene for you: Nine dismembered women, all brunettes, found with limbs arranged in the fetal position. The UnSub's next target is a small ranch in a highly populated area. With more possible targets and the UnSub still lurking around somewhere, the BAU is sent out to Dallas, Texas to lure the UnSub and finally take him down. This starts off with the team, including Garcia, on the jet on the way to Dallas.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

"So, Mr. Hotchner," Garcia stressed the 'r'.

"Yes, Garcia," he said, paying more attention to the pictures and less to what his team was saying.

"What's the game plan?" she asked. That caught his attention.

"Game plan?" he asked, distracted.

"Yes, sir. Game plan, i.e. battle strategy, plan of action. What are we gonna do?" she asked.

"Oh, right," he said, shaking off the view in the corner of his eye.

What _was _in the corner of his eye, you ask? Well, let me answer.

Emily Prentiss was in the corner of his eye. All that time, he wasn't _really _looking at the pictures. He was staring at Prentiss as discreetly as possible. Obviously, she hadn't noticed.

"We decided we were going to spring a trap on the bastard," Emily said.

"Y-yeah, um, we could…" he trailed.

"I have an idea," Reid piped up.

"Oh God," Morgan joked. Reid sent him a pointed look.

"I was just thinking that we could get someone that looks like his victim type, set them up in a situation, then get him into custody," Reid explained.

"That's actually a pretty good idea," JJ agreed.

"Ooh! Yay! This means we get to play some cowboy/cowgirl dress-up!" Garcia exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands.

"O-ok, that's good. Who's going to be the 'damsel in distress', so to speak?" Hotch asked, looking around.

All eyes were on Emily. She looked up, sensing the looks aimed in her direction.

"Wha-oh NO," Emily said defiantly. A small smile formed on Hotch's lips.

"No, guys. No, I will absolutely not do this," she said, ignoring them.

"Oh, come on Em. You're the only one who looks the part!" Penelope prodded.

"Hell no. I'm sorry, but no," Emily refused.

"Prentiss," Rossi warned.

"Why can't you stick a wig on JJ?" Emily pouted.

"Oh, okay, woah. Excuse me, but I'm married," JJ said, holding up her hands.

"Fine. I hate you all, you know that, right?" Emily glared. Reid burst into laughter, then JJ, Penelope, Rossi, Morgan, and finally Hotch. Emily couldn't hold it in. She joined in the laughed with her team. Little did she know she wouldn't be laughing later.

-At the ranch-

"Hello. I'm Detective Samson. I'm glad y'all are here," a white man in his early thirties donning a cowboy hat greeted.

"Hello. I'm Agent Hotchner and these are agents Prentiss, Morgan, Rossi, JJ, Dr. Reid, and our technical analyst Penelope Garcia," Hotch gestured.

"Nice to meet y'all. Look, not to be pushy or nothin', but do y'all got a plan? 'Cuz we as sure as hell don't have one; not a single one of us here," Detective Samson asked hopefully.

"Yes, Detective, we do have a plan, but it will take some time. I promise you, by the end of this day, we'll have caught the UnSub," Hotch promised.

"I do hope y'all's plan works," Detective Samson sighed.

"Prentiss, if you'll get ready," Hotch prompted. Emily tried desperately not to let out a long-drawn out sigh as she snatched the bag of clothing from Penelope.

"Don't tell her, but I'm taking pictures once she comes out," Penelope giggled to the team. They all chuckled.

"She won't be too happy about that," Morgan warned.

"Yeah. And you must remember, she does carry a gun at all times. She does know where you sleep, my dear," Rossi added, a large smile plastered onto his face.

Meanwhile, Emily locked the stall door and pulled out the clothes. After she changed, she looked in the mirror. This time, she did groan.

Her chest was heavily exposed by a skanky, red, tied shirt that stopped just above her bellybutton. Her long legs were exposed by excessively short-shorts that stopped literally right under her backside. Penelope taunted her by throwing in ankle-length, tight leather boots. Emily felt like she was wearing _nothing_. Which, she basically was.

Emily heard a multitude of catcalls and whistles as she walked out of the restroom. Every single jaw of her team dropped the minute she entered the room. She couldn't help but notice that Hotch was looking her up and down.

"D-did we mention there was going to be a male counterpart?" Morgan joked, dumbfounded. Rossi snickered and raised his eyebrow slyly the minute he saw the way Hotch was staring at Emily.

"Yeah. And Aaron here is the lucky guy," he chuckled. Hotch snapped out of his trance.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Yep. Excuse me, Detective Samson? Yeah. Can we get some cowboy-lookin' clothes over here?" Rossi announced loudly, pointing at Hotch. Hotch glared at Rossi, and for a moment he thought he was seriously going to get fired. Until Hotch cracked a smile.

"I hate you, David Rossi," Hotch chuckled. Detective Samson handed Hotch a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans. Hotch raised his eyebrows and went to change.

Emily uncomfortable tugged at her clothes. Penelope giggled and snapped a picture with her phone.

"What the hell!" Emily cried, lunging at Penelope.

"Woah there, Jethro," JJ said, stepping in front of Emily. Emily let out a huff and crossed her arms over her chest. Morgan came up behind her and pinched her butt.

"Derek Morgan! You little weasel!" Emily yelled, pinching his arm. He laughed uncontrollably.

"Why must you put me in this position?" she wailed. JJ led her to the porch.

"Just stay here until your 'cowboy in shining armor' comes, okay? Chill," JJ grinned. Emily rolled her eyes. Hotch finally came out a few moments later.

"So, um…" his voice trailed off.

"Should we, you know. Act like a couple?" she asked awkwardly.

"S-sure," he said, grabbing her hand.

He sat down on a chair and left her standing. There were no other chairs around. Her eyes widened.

"Oh God no," she mumbled.

"Trust me, Prentiss. This wasn't exactly my idea either," he grinned, trying to lighten things up. She forced herself onto his lap and sat uncomfortably, her body tense. Hotch placed his hands on her stomach. It sent electric tingles throughout her body.

"Um, H-Hotch?" she asked.

"S-sorry," he said, immediately removing his hands. Emily giggled and placed his hands back on her abdomen.

Suddenly, a car pulled up in the driveway. The man in the driver's seat matched their profile. Negro man, early to mid-thirties, full head of hair and a moustache.

"Hotch," she whispered nervously.

"It's fine. Pretend like you own the place. I'll head inside and warn the others," he whispered back.

"Well hey there!" Emily called in her best Southern twang.

Damn, that sounded terrible, she thought. The man smiled and waved.

"Hello, lovely lady," he grinned, coming closer.

"What're you doin' 'round these parts?" she asked.

"Oh, just looking for a place to settle for a bit. I've been travelling around for some… Important business," he said.

Yup, this was our UnSub, she thought.

"I see. Are you-" Hotch cut her off by wrapping his arms around her and snaking around to her face and pressed a kiss to her lips.

"Hello, darlin'. I was startin' to wonder where you wandered off to," he whispered in almost a seductive tone.

The UnSub cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Oh, sorry sir. My name's Jonathan Withers, and this is my wife, Lisa. We own this here inn," Hotch drawled.

"That's great, sir. I was wonderin' if I could set here for a while," the man asked.

"Of course. Why don't ya' come on in?" Hotch gestured towards the door. They followed in after him.

Immediately after he entered the building, every single one of the agents inside had their guns aimed at the UnSub.

"Jackson Williams, you are under arrest for the murder of nine women. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you by the government. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?" Hotch recited as he placed handcuffs around Jackson's wrists.

Jackson nodded solemnly. Hotch wrestled him into a cop car that had pulled up and pressed his head down.

Emily took a deep breath.

"You good?" JJ asked, placing a hand on her back.

"Yeah, I'm good," Emily replied. Hotch came back into the room. Emily tugged uncomfortably at her clothes.

"Can I change out of these now?" she asked awkwardly. He grinned.

He placed his hands around her exposed wait and smiled slyly against her lips.

"Not just yet…"

**The End!**


End file.
